Two Sides to Every Story
by Spense
Summary: There is a conflict. There is truth to both sides. But usually, the ultimate truth is found in the middle.
1. Chapter 1 - INCIDENT

**Two Sides to Every Story**

**by Spense**

_I am forever fascinated with the thought process involved in both sides of a conflict. There are always two sides to every story, and each believes that they are absolutely correct. Communication issues, personal history, past interactions, and any number of other factors contribute to how one party will see the other and what they present. So often, what is said, is not what is actually meant. However, the truth is inevitably right in the middle, and compromise is only achieved which each discovers this fact._

_This could be read as either TV or Movie verse, but I'm using the Movie Verse ages because they mesh better with the plot, and make it more believable. However, all the characters are older. In this case, Alan is 21._

_**THE INCIDENT**_

"What do you mean I can't join IR?" Alan was more bewildered than anything else, as he sat across from his father's big desk in his home office in the spacious apartment the family kept there.

His father looked back at him seriously. "You heard me. You know nothing is just a given in this family. It has to be earned." Jeff absolutely loathed having to do this, but Alan was still so impulsive. Jeff just shuddered at the thought of his youngest son on a rescue.

"So, why . . ." Alan stumbled as he spoke, hardly comprehending, "Why did you let me believe I could? That, I'd be . . ." Alan couldn't even finish.

"I never did," Jeff Tracy said quietly, hating the disappointment he saw in his youngest son's face.

"But you did!" Alan's voice was rising. "What about 'if you graduate with honors', or 'just keep doing what you're doing, you'll get there', and everything else that you said! Hell, I've had my pin since I was 14. Or was that just a farce?" Alan challenged, anger building.

"No, it wasn't, and you know it!" Jeff's voice was beginning to rise in spite of himself. How could this particular kid always get the better of him? He always managed to get a rise out of him.

"How? Tell me how I was supposed to know!"

"Alan, you know you've always been impulsive. You've always had trouble with your temper. Yes, you've done fine with the academics . . ." Jeff tried to moderate his tone, but Alan broke him off.

"Gee, I wonder where I got the temper from," Alan sneered, angry and upset, and looking at the crumbling of his life's ambition and expectations. "And 'fine' with academics? Graduating the top of my class is just 'fine'? Good grief, what more do you want from me?!"

Jeff took a deep breath, and mentally steadied himself as he looked at his furious son. Anger, fury, and . . . hurt. Jeff hated this. "Alan, you just need to grow up," he said patiently. "Yes, your grades were impressive. But remember, we already have an engineer - Virgil. A second is great for the organization, and helpful, but you just aren't ready, maturity wise."

The blatant double-standard of it just caught Alan flat. He just stared. His father had steered him towards engineering. He'd only decided to go that route specifically because of his father's advice! And as for maturity? Well . . . "How the hell would you know how mature I am? I didn't notice that you ever took an active role in my education. Or my life for that matter! As I recall, that was all Scott! He was the only one who ever showed up at school! I've hardly seen you in the last six years. You've been working when I've been on vacations, on shut up in your office. A 'hi there', is about all I rated!"

"Alan! That's enough! That's exactly what I'm talking about. You let your temper get the better of you. You know the situation we're in. Publicity, the need to hide IR, and attempting to just give you a shot at as normal an education as possible. With me around, you couldn't do that."

"Yeah, just keep telling yourself that," Alan snarled. "I noticed that it wasn't an issue with any of the others. And normal? When is anything normal about us?" Alan's voice was rising again.

"Exactly," Jeff pointed out with the force of his logic, doing his best to ignore the dig and trying to get a grip on his own rising temper. "Most kids your age are having to find their own way. They don't have money backing them, and they don't have the kind of options you do. You should make use of them; choose what you want to do."

"The only thing I've ever wanted to be is a member of International Rescue, and you know it!"

"Alan, maturity comes with experience. Who knows? In the future, there may be a time . . ."

Alan broke of his father's statement before he could finish. He didn't want to be thrown a bone, a small sliver of hope. "So you're saying that making my own way will prove I'm mature enough?" He still couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Jeff did his best to speak calmly. "What I'm saying is that not having everything handed to you forces maturity. It happened to me. I had to work my way to the top, and you never have. I can get you a job in Tracy Enterprises. Having to go to a job on a day to day basis could really help your self-control. You can live here in the apartment."

Again, Alan just stared in disbelief. Did his father really, truly not understand? "Are you that unaware of my actual life that you don't know I had multiple job offers the moment I graduated? And that I didn't want them? I turned everything down. I've always understood I'd work for IR!"

Jeff signed. "Alan, how would you handle a full time job? You can't even make it out of bed for your first class of the morning! I know how many times you skipped that first morning class for years!. You always practically failed your first class of the day. If you hadn't done extra assignments, you would have! I'm not stupid, and you may not think I'd paid attention to you, but I knew what was going on. The first time you lost your temper on a job, you'd be fired. Only family would put up with that. Tracy Enterprises would be a good first job for you. You need to learn control."

Again, Alan just looked at his father in disbelief. Did he really think that little of him? He answered himself almost immediately. Yes, he did. Well, in for a penny . . . "So you really think that little of me?" He asked slowly and carefully, echoing his thoughts out loud.

"No!" Jeff was shocked that Alan could even think of such a thing. "Alan, you're a fine young man. You're smart, athletically gifted, and you have a fantastic way with people. You're just young. You just need to grow up, learn impulse control."

Alan couldn't take any more of this. He knew it was picking at a wound, but he really needed to get this clear in his head. By this time, both men were standing, glaring at each other over Jeff Tracy's wide desk. "So you really think I wouldn't be able to hold a job outside of family?" Again, the carefully phrased question.

Jeff Tracy wasn't dumb. Far from it. He knew what his son was trying to get him to say, but he'd played this game for far longer, and with far more intimidating opponents than his youngest son.

"No, that isn't what I'm saying at all, and you know it, young man. What I'm saying is that your temper and lack of maturity will get you into trouble. You don't have any idea of how to deal with a business situation in the outside world. You just need experience."

If Jeff had stopped with that, things may have remained at a point where they could have been salvageable. But the Tracy temper had been inherited from somewhere, and Jeff Tracy's one blind spot was his sons. All of them. And his vaunted business acuity and intuition failed him at this moment, because of that very blind spot. And so, in the very finest Tracy tradition, Jeff opened his mouth and spoke, when keeping silent would have been the best in this particular situation.

"We've all spoiled you," Jeff shook his head in frustration. "Unlike your brothers, I suppose, because of the age difference between you and Gordon. We've indulged you far too much; given into your temper tantrums and whining. Unfortunately, now you have to pay the piper for our actions and bad decisions. It's time for you to grow up, Alan. And that isn't just my opinion. It's your brother's as well."

Alan started at his father in utter disbelief. The basic statement was bad enough. But the insinuation that all of his brothers agreed and were in on this? That was more than he could take. Or even comprehend at this moment.

The anger, hurt, and frustration he'd felt his whole life came into pinpoint focus. All the times he'd felt left out, left behind, not good enough, and essentially, the Tracy outcast, were so clear. He'd just gritted his teeth, and soldiered through, living for the moment when he would be an IR operative, and finally accepted as an equal.

Now, not only was that taken away, but any semblance of self-respect he had for himself was gone as he truly understood how his father felt about his abilities. And his brothers. Basically, whatever he did, anything he could achieve, would never matter. His father would never see him as good enough for anything Tracy. He'd be given a token job at Tracy Enterprises with a pat on the head, an appropriate title for a Tracy son, commensurate high salary, and ultimately be a figure head for the Tracy failure. And to realize that not only did his father believe this, but all of his brother's did as well, was just too much to take in.

All the work, the frustration, and the self-doubt surfaced in a wave of absolute anger. Well, no way in hell. He didn't have anything left to lose at the moment, so he may as well prove his father right, and actually get to have his say for once. Trying to _earn_ a place certainly hadn't worked.

Crystal clear, and ice cold, Alan reached into his pocket for the token he had always carried with him. A token of hope for the future. "Well, father, since I'm that much of a liability, I'll relieve you of the burden of hiding me away at Tracy Enterprises . . . "

"Alan, don't be ridiculous," Jeff snapped, truly irritated, and breaking into his son's self-righteous tirade. Of course Alan was upset, but this was foolish. "You're being overly dramatic. You could be trying to do this all by yourself, after all. I could be telling you to get out and make it on your own."

"Well, then why the hell don't you? You're essentially doing that anyway, you just don't want to have to actually say the words!" Alan shouted furiously back. "And as for impulse control? We'll this is exactly how much control I do have."

And with that, Alan drew his arm back, and with unerring aim, and as hard an overhand throw as he had ever made, (causing his father to duck reflexively) he threw the IR pin given to him when he was 14, at a time he thought he'd proven himself, so hard that the tiny pin shattered the glass of the family portrait hanging on the wall directly behind his father, on impact.

And while Jeff was catching his breath from the crash and the power of the throw, Alan turned on his heel, marched out the door, through the living room, leaving the remains of his combination graduation, 21st birthday, and the transfer of his trust to his name, 'party', and his brothers jumping to his feet, shocked at the noise and his sudden appearance, strode through the marble foyer, and out the front door, slamming it behind him so hard it shook in the frame, never once looking back.


	2. Chapter 2 - AFTERMATH (Part 1)

_**Chapter Two – AFTERMATH (Part I)**_

Alan took himself out the foyer and to the stairs, forsaking the elevator. He was too angry to face anybody, and needed a physical outlet. Jogging down the stairs from the penthouse of the old, classic apartment building, he let his anger flare and burn.

Years of expectations, and the humiliation of failure, hummed through him like an electrical wire. All this time, all of his life, he'd expected to be an International Rescue Operative. He'd been groomed for it from his earliest childhood. He'd done everything he'd been asked, all that was expected of him. He'd tried to mold himself into the perfect Tracy son.

Well, look exactly where that had gotten him. Exactly where everything had always gotten him. Nowhere. And looked at as 'not good enough'. How exactly could somebody flunk out of the secret family business? Well, he'd managed it somehow. He wasn't exactly sure how, but wow, he had done it.

Hitting the bottom of the stairs, Alan's energy took him out the back door and down a back alley. Checking carefully, he hustled across the busy street and lost himself in Central Park. Aimless, he picked a direction and began moving at a fast clip. Anyplace, as far away from the apartment and his family as he could get.

And he certainly would not be thinking of the apartment as home. Not anymore. Not unless he wanted to find himself living alone in New York, working as a figure head at Tracy Enterprises, and only expected to not disgrace the family name, and not call any attention to himself.

Alan's fury flamed bright again at the thought. No way. No fucking way in hell.

TB TB TB TB TB

"Dad?" Virgil's voice was tentative as he looked around the corner to his father's office.

Jeff's back to towards him, as he studied the shattered glass of the portrait behind him. Bending down, he picked something up among the tiny fragments littering the expensive carpet and hardwood floor, studied it, then stood straight again, and turned back towards his son.

Well, his sons, plural. All four remaining offspring were crowding in the doorway, and slowly making their way inside, looking in amazement at the wreckage behind their father. Jeff turned back again, and studied the now glass-free portrait, then absently reached up and fingered the tear in the expense photo paper. Alan's throw had been hard enough to not only break the glass of the large portrait, but also to tear the heavy paper behind it, opening a gash about an inch and a half long across the smiling faces.

"Good grief," Gordon muttered, unable to look away.

"Looks like something more happened than just signing Alan's trust fund over to him," Scott observed in disbelief.

"We didn't get that far," Jeff commented with a sigh.

"Then what did happen?" Virgil asked, aghast.

"I told him he wouldn't be working as an IR Operative," Jeff said, and tossed the tiny IR pin that had been Alan's to the top of his desk.

The room went silent once again. They all knew that this would be the case. It had been a long discussion involving all of them. They had all agreed (with varying degrees of support) that it was the right thing for the moment. Alan just wasn't ready.

"Way to go, Dad," Gordon muttered. "Looks like he took it well."

"Dad, your timing could have been better," John agreed quietly.

"I know, I know. And I probably said some things that I shouldn't. But man alive, can that kid ever wind me up," Jeff sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending headache.

Scott snorted agreement. He too, had been on the receiving end of Alan's temper more than once. From the time he was small, Alan had always unerringly known which button to push to set the kettle to boiling.

"And it really wouldn't have helped that none of us made his graduation ceremony, either," Gordon remarked.

Virgil looked at him in surprise. "Alan knew we were all tied up in that rescue in the Andes. He was fine with it!"

"Maybe," Gordon agreed noncommittally. "But seriously, when have any of us been to anything of Alan's lately? We've always had good reasons, but still."

"We were making it up to him tonight," Scott objected.

"Think he took it like that? Or maybe, he saw it as a pity party, after Dad's little announcement," Gordon said with a slightly bitter tone. "Especially if he's aware that all of us were in on it." He, of all of them, had had more than an inkling of what this might do to his little brother if not handled absolutely correctly. And it looked like it had been a fubar, and handled as for from delicate as a hammer from a laser.

Picking up the pin from the table, and looking at it, he finished, "And exactly where do you think his head is at right now?"

Jeff took the pin from his red-headed son, and put it carefully on the front of the desk. "He'll want that when he gets back. Let's give him some space to clear his head, and come to terms with this. We'll work it out when he gets back."

TB TB TB TB TB

The sun was beginning to set as Alan finally made his way out of Central Park's opposite side. His anger wasn't cooling, and nothing was looking all that differently to him given his walk and the passing time. So, he just continued on his route, desperately trying to get a rein on his temper. At the moment, he just couldn't comprehend the whole of it. And that his dad let slip that his brothers were all part of the decision was a betrayal he just couldn't yet handle.

So, instead, he did what any trained engineer would do. He looked at the available options. Dismissing the path his father had laid out, (Alan cringed at the very thought), he began to look at others. Options. He did have options. And he had to think about them.

Wandering down the frontage road on the far side of the park, he realized how much ground he'd covered in the last few hours. And he knew right where he was. Working his way through the streets past the mansions and expensive apartments, towards the poorer part of town that always existed back in the shadows, Alan made his way towards a shelter for the homeless that all in the Tracy family knew about.

Jeff had made sure that their wealth went to many philanthropic causes. And not just those that were large, and created publicity, but also the small and unknown. One of these was a shelter and soup kitchen, back where it was most needed, in the seedy back streets of the city that was their second home. And not only did Jeff fully fund it, but he and all of his sons had helped out as much as possible when they were in New York. And they still did, when they could.

So when Alan walked in the door, Gavin Brown, the administrator, just looked up and called a hello. "We're back in the kitchen making sandwiches."

"Great! Can I give a hand?" Alan asked, grabbing for a pair of latex gloves out of the box. "What can I do?"

Alan was an old pro at hiding his emotions. After all, he'd been doing so since he was a small child. Impulsive and temperamental he may be, he was still a Tracy, and he knew what was expected, and how to project the expected front.

"Hi Alan!" Beth, the head cook, greeted him. "Didn't know you were in town. Glad to have you. How about you work on the Peanut Butter and Jelly line."

"Will do," Alan nodded and headed over to begin making the dozens of sandwiches needed to feed the homeless the next day. The rhythm of the work soothed him, and allowed him to relax to an extent. He let his anger, disappointment and frustration fade into the background, as much as was humanly possible, concentrating on the job at hand.

Getting into the pace of the mundane work, Alan just let his thoughts float along, trying to separate himself from his anger for the moment. He decided that, well a part of him would feel broken for the rest of his life, that didn't mean he had to let it control him. And frankly, he had to push those emotions aside right now, if he was able to remain functioning. Like a bruise that was fine as long as you didn't touch it. He knew he needed to be calm, if he were to make any concrete plans.

And suddenly, that was when Alan Tracy realized that he wasn't going to be going back to the expensive apartment on Central Park. That he was not going to work at Tracy Enterprises. That he had no intention of following his father's plan for him. No, he was going to make his own way in life, just as his father had before him.

TB TB TB TB TB

A loud, shrill, ring of a phone broke the calm of the expensive apartment just of Central Park. Heads came up and looked around at the noise. Gordon stood just outside the dining room looking at his phone, then he, too, looked around.

Spying an object on the coffee table, beneath the mess of wrapping paper, forgotten gifts opened by Alan, and food plates, Gordon hustled over and snagged the ringing phone.

"Shit." He muttered distinctly, as he shut off the ringing phone.

"Gordon, language," Jeff admonished from the chair he sat in, holding the newspaper that he'd been 'reading' without turning a page for the last 10 minutes.

"What is that?" Virgil asked, brow furrowed.

"Alan's phone," Gordon answered. "I just tried to call him. It's getting late. Needless to say, he won't be answering."

Four heads came up on full alert at that. A look outside showed the setting sun, and they all knew that Alan had been gone for hours. And without his phone, they had no way of knowing where he was. The first whiff of oncoming trouble was in the air, and they all had just gotten a scent of it.


	3. Chapter 3 - AFTERMATH (Part 2)

_**CHAPTER THREE – AFTERMATH (Part 2)**_

Alan helped until the sandwich line was completed, and the freshly made meals were wrapped and stored. Then he helped with the clean up, in companionable silence with the staff. It wasn't until the last dish was washed and the last floor mopped, that Gavin looked at him.

"Shouldn't you be getting home, Alan? It's pretty late."

Alan looked at the clock, now showing fifteen minutes after midnight. "Not an issue," he said noncommittally. "But, I'll be on my way."

"Thanks for the help," Gavin smiled as he let him out the door, locking it behind him.

Alan smiled and waved, and headed down the street. The simple chores had helped him clear his head, and he had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to do. The way it had come together in his head while he'd worked on mundane tasks made him wonder if it had been subconsciously churning away, and just waiting for a chance for him to notice.

First off, he had to get some sleep, and then make some phone calls. Everything except his wallet was back at the apartment, but that was okay. He didn't plan to go back there. He had everything he needed.

Unbeknownst to his family, his racing winnings from Perola Sans had been carefully stashed away. He knew they all thought that he'd blown the money, but he hadn't. So even though he still didn't have control of his trust fund, he had enough money to keep him going for a while. Certainly not in Tracy style, but that wasn't his intention.

And frankly, the more he thought about it, he didn't want to use anything of his father's. He wanted to do this on his own. After all, the best revenge was to become a success all by himself. And he had some ideas for the long term. Long buried dreams that had lain dormant because of the siren call of International Rescue.

But first, he wanted to disappear for a while, and recover from the shock. He needed to be out of the eye of the press, and he needed to be away from his family, until he could get his head together and sort out his feelings on this mess without going completely ballistic.

Just the thought of his father made his blood boil all over again. Taking a deep breath, he worked on calming himself down. He needed to be able to go someplace like the shelter, and do something good. Something that kept him from thinking too much. The mundane work at the shelter had really helped him to calm down. He had years of trying to control his temper and he knew himself pretty well. Right now, he just plain needed a break.

He'd set about proving himself, all right, but that was going to take some planning, and he was pretty burned out. Angry, upset, emotional, and just plain pissed off, was not a good mind set to plan out his future. A domineering father and nosey brothers were not going to help matters either, right now. He knew he'd lose it and say something he regretted, just like always, if he was around anybody named Tracy right at the moment. So first, he just needed to get lost for a while. That was difficult with just the plain, raw, intelligence of his family, but add their unlimited resources to the mix, it was pretty hard to disappear. But he knew them pretty well, and had a fairly good idea of what would work. And he knew just the place.

Wandering through the now black city, Alan needed to get off the streets. He stopped in at the first cheap motel he found, paid cash, and set up in the room. Turning on the TV, he stretched out on the bed, losing himself in sports. Knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep because he'd just replay the conversation with his father, over and over, he didn't even try. He just waited until morning came, and then he'd be able to make his calls, and get some things set up.

TB TB TB TB TB

The mood at the Tracy apartment was somber as the hour grew later. Finally, at 1am, Jeff sent his sons to their rooms to try to get some sleep. Grumbling and some outright arguments took place first.

Certain parties flat out said 'no', and were told in no uncertain terms that they were acting like Alan.

Other contributors said they should all be out looking for him, but again they were overruled by saner heads.

Finally, the apartment off Central Park settled down for the night, but not one wink of sleep was achieved. By six in the morning, all the participants were up, and aware that Alan had not come home, nor had he phoned anybody with the surname of Tracy. And so the hunt began.

TB TB TB TB TB

The simple trail was found first. Between the investigators Jeff immediately hired and the Tracy's themselves, it didn't take long to find out that Alan had spent the first part of the evening at the soup kitchen. Gavin was surprised to see the whole family descending on him, and even more surprised when he found out why.

"No, Alan was perfectly normal. Maybe a little quieter than usual, but the same sunny smile, and as easy to work with as always. He even stayed and helped to clean up. I finally kicked him out a little after midnight. All I can say is that he headed north on foot. No idea where he went from there."

Gavin racked his brain for anything else he could think of. At further urging, he just shrugged. "No clue that there was any trouble. He wasn't angry, worried, or anything like that. A little preoccupied maybe, if I really had to say something was different, but really, just normal."

It wasn't long after that the hotel Alan had spent the night was found. John raised an eyebrow at the dilapidated shape of the place. Gordon laughed. "Seriously, Alan? Couldn't find any place better?" Jeff shut him down with a look.

Nobody in the family was crossing Jeff on anything right now. He was partially worried, and partially livid with anger, with both emotions growing the more time passed and nothing was heard from his wayward son. This was not a good combination for Jeff at any time, and certainly one that did not bode well for anybody who got in the way of his goal. His four elder sons were treading carefully, and, as worried as they all were, sympathy towards Alan was beginning to wane as time went forward. Irresponsible was the word that seemed to come up the most.

The hotel clerk just shrugged at the group. "Nah, he came in about 1 am, checked out around 7. Here, look at the register if you don't believe me." Queried further, he couldn't come up with much. "No, just a guy. Normal looking, maybe dressed a little too nice for this neighborhood, but, hey, we get all kinds. No, he wasn't with someone, but that isn't too unusual. Most guys have their dates waiting for them in the shadows. Don't want to be seen with them and all."

And after that the trail ceased. As in, vanished, cold.

The day stretched into two. Then, three. Still, no word, and no sign of Alan. Finally Jeff sent his sons back to the island, commenting that International Rescue had to be kept up and running. He got some pushback for that. But Jeff was not in the mood to take anymore opposition from any other of his offspring at the moment, and soon he was left alone in the Tracy apartment.

Jeff wandered around, somewhat aimlessly. He'd gotten the authorities involved as soon as was appropriate according to the missing person's statutes. He'd also gotten the FBI involved. Lady Penelope had been called almost immediately, and had her own private network on line, and private investigators had been hired within hours, and now Jeff sat in the middle of a very large and effective web that was increasing by the moment. All looking for his wayward son.

Dropping into a chair that overlooked the park, Jeff gazed unseeing out on the bright afternoon. Alan had literally walked out the door, and not come back. He only had his wallet with him, and none of his bank accounts had been touched. His phone, clothes, keys, and computer were all here. And Alan hadn't returned. Jeff just couldn't believe that his son had left like that. It made no sense. Alan was impulsive, but he wasn't stupid.

Jeff knew his sons well. Very well, as a matter of fact. There wasn't much in any one of their lives that he didn't know about, whether they were aware of that fact or not. He hadn't been kidding when he'd told Alan that he knew about him nearly failing his early morning classes. He worried so much about that kid. He could be so impulsive, and mostly just reacted, and didn't think. Alan had to get a handle on that aspect of his personality, and nothing Jeff had tried seemed to help.

With the consent of his sons, (albeit reluctant in some cases), he did the only remaining thing he could think of to do, and withheld bringing Alan into International Rescue. Part of him felt that he'd been proven right by Alan's actions that afternoon, but part of him had actually been impressed at Alan's response. Oh, Alan had gotten angry, unsurprisingly, and spouted off in self-righteous fury, but he'd also been cool enough to manage to make his point by shattering that picture with pin-point accuracy and aim. That had been calculating enough. Jeff snorted. He had no doubt that the irony was not lost on his youngest son. Alan didn't miss much.

But Jeff just couldn't believe that Alan would up and leave. Oh, he'd have a fit of pique, but then he'd come back and settle into the job waiting for him at Tracy Enterprises. Jeff had lined up something that he thought his son would thrive in. A position working with a really top notch team that specialized in inventive engineering. The same group that Brains had worked with before moving to work exclusively on developing International Rescue. With this team, Alan would be instrumental in developing many of the tools that they would use in IR, as well as ground breaking developments in safety in mining, manufacturing, and other, more extreme applications. A perfect place to utilize his creative thinking.

The team leaders were excellent men that Jeff trusted implicitly, and they were proven mentors. Several of Jeff's now top engineers had started as gifted, but volatile and inconsistent personalities. Although ignored by many other firms as early candidates because of their unreliability, Jeff had taken a chance, and placed them under these team leaders.

Under that superb mentorship, the questionable candidates had flourished, and gone on to become some of the best innovative and well respected engineers in their respective fields. And they were still with Tracy Enterprises. There wasn't anybody else that Jeff could think of that would do better by his youngest, most erratic, son. He knew Alan would thrive in that environment, and under those men. And best of all, he wouldn't be having his father or brother's looking over his shoulder. That would have been an impossible situation for Alan, and Jeff knew it.

After a couple of years with that group, and separate from the family (although still under the family umbrella), Jeff had no doubt that Alan would be ready for IR. If he still wanted to be part of it by then, that is. There was always that possibility that he may not want to after being immersed with that creative group. But as hard as that would be for Jeff, if Alan chose not to join IR when the time came, he would take that chance. His ultimate dream was to run International Rescue with all of his sons by his side. But first and foremost, he wanted each of them to be happy and successful in whatever they did, and if that was outside IR, then so be it.

Right now, Alan was too unpredictable to be safe in the field. It was the hardest decision that he had ever had to make, especially knowing that Alan would most likely not understand. Additionally, all of his sons all backed him in this. Better a furious Alan, than a dead Alan. There had been enough issues when Gordon joined, that had proven that point quite clearly. Nobody wanted a repeat of those incidents. They were family first, IR second. The discussions surrounding the decision had been long, hard, and animated, but ultimately, unanimous.

However, Penny had pointed out to Jeff, (and truthfully, he had to admit), none of this was likely clear to Alan. They hadn't gotten into specifics, and in the heat of that moment, all Alan felt was hurt. And since Jeff never had been able to talk to the kid without fighting with him, he probably hadn't laid it out all that well. Scratch that. He _knew_ that he hadn't laid out his plan at all well.

Jeff stared pensively outside. He could only hope that Alan was staying away voluntarily. Bad as that was, worse would be that he was in trouble. And with this particular kid, that was all too possible. And Jeff had no idea where he was. And no idea how to find him.

TB TB TB TB TB

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy, but I can't help you. Your son is a legal adult, and he has the right to disappear if he so chooses. He's 21."

"So you're telling me, that somebody dropping off the face of the earth is fine?" Jeff was angry, and not afraid to show it. Three weeks after Alan went missing, and he was still getting the same answer. First, as the FBI dropped off the case, then the police. Now, the best investigators he could hire. He was not happy with what he was hearing, and to have it told to him once again was not improving his temper in the least. His sons would have been ducking for cover at his expression.

The man in front of him, Jacob Young, wasn't cowed in the least. "No, what I'm telling you is that I can find nothing that shows that your son is missing against his will. Everything I've found shows this to be voluntary, and that is not a crime."

This wasn't the first time Jacob had run into this, and everything he'd unearthed pointed towards this kid running as far and as fast as he could from a famous and domineering father. Not that he blamed him. Jefferson Tracy was everything he was made out to be. Strong, tough, and determined. He'd heard also that he was a good father, and in fact, his four eldest sons seemed to be willing to follow him through fire.

But something had happened to give the youngest Tracy son just cause to get as far away as he could get. And along with that, all he was picking up was frustration and anger from the family about the kid's dropping off the face of the planet. And of course nobody would tell him what the original fight was about. Not one word. And that was suspicious enough in itself.

Everything seemed on the up and up, but Jacob had been around the block a few too many times. He knew far too much about what happened behind closed doors, and the seedy side of life, and he also knew enough to know he wasn't getting the whole truth. Something was off here, and Jeff Tracy could put on the squeaky clean front all that he wanted, but his youngest son wasn't kidnapped, or taken against his will. He could prove that. Alan Tracy had disappeared, all on his own, and had done a damn good job of it. And nobody did that without a reason.

It would be highly interesting to get the other side of the story. From what Jacob had put together of the kid's days in college, and the time right up to the fight, he could see Alan Tracy was bright, motivated, and generally well liked. Some comments about his impulsiveness came up, and his temper, but essentially he was like any other 21 year old. Jacob could find absolutely nothing on the kid that was dubious or suspect. He just seemed like a basically good kid.

And someday, Jacob would like very much to talk to him. Anybody who could disappear that completely was better than bright, in his opinion; they were just this side of genius.

TB TB TB TB TB

Soon, the weeks turned into months. Jeff returned to the island, and on the outside, life went on, much like it had while Alan was at college. But there was a damper over the inhabitants of the island, and a constant thread of worry that never went away.

To be continued . . . .


	4. Chapter 4 - OUTCOME (Part 1)

_**Chapter Four – OUTCOME – Part 1**_

"Mayday, Mayday! Calling International Rescue!" came the scratchy radio call.

Up on TB 5, 4 months after Alan Tracy vanished without a trace, John Tracy rolled his chair over to the console and pushed the button to open communications. "This is International Rescue. Go ahead. What is your emergency?"

There was a burst of static, garbling the communications, then it cleared enough for John to understand. And instead of the usual 'I can't believe that worked - you heard me', the caller actually got right to the point.

"International Rescue, this is Engineers Without Borders. We are currently located in Cambodia, and we've experienced a catastrophic bridge collapse. The slopes are unstable, and we currently have two people dead, three people trapped, and two more missing."

John furrowed his brow. Something wasn't right . . .

The location would be tough to get into, but the rescue didn't sound overly dangerous for them, at least not from the first summary. Although that could be deceiving. And it had been summarized briefly and to the point, for a change. All that was above board, and seemed pretty straight forward.

No, it was the voice on the other side of the radio that was giving him chills. Even over the scratchy radio, it sounded familiar somehow. No, it couldn't be . . . could it? As he hit the button to sound the klaxon on the island, he opened the channel again, and addressed the caller.

"Affirmative, Engineers Without Borders, I have operatives scrambling. Please identify yourself."

There was a brief pause, then came back the reply. "Alan Tracy."

John blinked and caught his breath. _Bingo._ Over the open line, the static could be heard, and voices shouting in the background. A faint, 'tell them . . . that . . . ' could be heard, and Alan's voice answering indistinctly.

Finally he spoke. "Please repeat? Your name again, please?"

This time, the voice sounded annoyed as a reply was snapped back. "Alan Tracy, and we need help. NOW." John could just hear the unspoken, 'get off your ass, John' from his little brother.

Knowing that he couldn't say anything that needed to be said over an open channel, with Alan around strangers John shunted everything he wanted to say off to the side, and concentrated on business. "Roger that, Alan Tracy. You may call me Operative 5. I have operatives en route to you in Cambodia now."

Quickly, John toggled down to Tracy Island. "Guys, you're going to Cambodia. Coordinates sent to the birds . . . now." John finished typing as he spoke. Then he paused. While he was thinking what to say, Scott broke in.

"Roger. Contact's name and nature of the rescue?"

John could picture Scott strapping himself into TB1, and getting the Thunderbird ready for take-off, as the swimming pool next to the villa would be pulling back. Virgil, listening on the radio, would be running pre-flight checks as well, and feeding the data into TB2s computers.

"Uh, Base, the contact is . . . is with Engineers Without Borders. He says his name is Alan Tracy." John paused to let that sink in.

There was a moment of stunned silence, then, "Wait, _OUR_ Alan?" Gordon asked from the co-pilots seat on TB2, incredulous.

"Sure sounds like him," John confirmed, "But it's an open channel. I can't tell for sure."

Again, there was a moment while this processed. Then John opened the channel to the site again, leaving the mic open for the others on the island. Proud of himself that he was able to control his voice, John spoke on the open line once more. "Alan, this is Operative 5. Can you please describe the scene and any landing parameters available?"

Alan's voice came back on the line, crisp and controlled, relaying exactly the information needed.

Suddenly, TinTin's voice broke in on the closed link from Tracy Island to TB 5. "Thunderbird 5, I'll be running Command and Control. Commander is en route to site on Thunderbird 1."

"Affirmative," John answered, not surprised in the least. Fingers flying over his keyboards, he found the location of the disaster. Although originally, the site looked fairly straightforward, Engineers Without Borders was in the process of building a bridge over a deep river gorge whose cliffs made the job extremely complex. Suddenly an easy location looked significantly more difficult. As he looked it over more carefully, John's heart sank. There was no way this was going to be easy. This was going to be bad.

As John studied the maps in front of him, the radio crackled to life once again. This time it was Scott on the open channel.

"Site, this is Operative 1. Alan, please repeat the landing parameters, and the causality count so far."

John knew that Scott just wanted to hear Alan speak again. He was pretty sure that this was their Alan Tracy (because really, who else would know exactly what kind of landing site they would need for TB2, and had just provided a description of one that was flawless); but mistakes could be made, and they needed to know for sure.

Later, John would remember the situation with amusement, but at the time, the inaudible level of communication was unsettling. He swore he could hear the worry and uncertainty from all the parties involved. Except, humorously enough, from Alan. He was all business. But of course, he would be, considering he initiated the original call, and wouldn't have been taken cold by surprise.

As Alan's voice described in detail the terrain that IR would be encountering and the actual situation (a previously unknown and unexplored temple and cave complex deep underground, right where the bridge supports were going in, subsequently causing the whole of the partially constructed supports and bridge deck to collapse), operatives of International Rescue found that they were dealing with two very separate situations. One professional, compounded by a very knotty personal issue, all intertwined.

And it surprised none of them, after the first initial shock. Why wouldn't it be something completely off the wall? This _was_ Alan, after all. And the myriad of questions would have to wait. They had a rescue to perform.

TB TB TB TB TB

When International Rescue reached the site of the bridge collapse in Cambodia, they found the landing locations for the Thunderbirds marked out with flags, cleared, and waiting for them. An older man jogged up to meet them, as they disembarked, face shields firmly in place on their helmets.

"I'm so glad to see you!" the man commented gratefully. "I'm Dr. Leon Ariee, head of the team from Engineers Without Borders. I'm in charge of this project."

"I'm Operative 1. We were contacted by an Alan Tracy," Scott said, as he set up mobile control. "Is he around?"

The lean, tanned, gray haired man nodded. "Yes, Alan made the call as soon as we realized this was over our heads. Smart kid, that one. He's over at the collapse now, helping out. He wanted me to meet you and fill you in, as I'm head of this operation."

"Exactly what happened?" Scott asked, as he was joined by Jeff, Virgil and Gordon.

"We've been working on designing and building a bridge over the deep gorge. The area is cut off, a bridge would significantly help the local economy. The design is excellent, and well suited to the area and the terrain. Implementation was going exactly according to plan, and there didn't seem to be any issues, until we cut down deep for the support, and hit an unknown and unmapped temple system. The collapse was almost instant."

The man looked grim. "We lost two people outright, one engineer and another worker, when the deck went into the gorge. The problem now is that we have three others trapped and two missing. They may be buried in the cave in. It's unstable, and if they're buried, time is critical."

The actual damage site wasn't hard to find. The knot of people standing around watching those manning a block and tackle were a dead giveaway.

Leon and the group from IR headed that way quickly.

"Nathan, how's it going?"

A young man looked up from the edge of the collapsed area. He was filthy, his features hardly recognizable. "Alan says he has two survivors that he knows about. He can hear the third, but can't get to him. He thinks he can get the two up if we can shore the area up properly. We've got the harness ready, and the block and tackle."

Leon nodded, then yelled down the hole. "Alan! International Rescue is here! What do you need?"

A voice, unmistakably 'their' Alan, called back. "I think I've got an idea to stabilize this part of the tunnel, but I need help! Send down one of their people who is familiar with engineering!"

Jeff clapped Virgil on the shoulder, and nodded. Virgil nodded back. "I'll go down on the harness, and confer."

No sooner had he said so, than he was on the way down the unstable opening. He must have dropped the equivalent of two stories before he touched down in the small circle of light.

Alan was barely discernible in the dim light. His normally bright blond hair was nearly black with dark loam, and his face and clothes were liberally streaked as well. Only his bright blue eyes glowed with their normal color.

Before Virgil could say a thing, or make a move, Alan put out his hand and said, "Alan Tracy, glad to have you here. We need your expertise," his eyes conveying a warning that they weren't alone. "Beth," he called out, "International Rescue is here!"

A shaky, disembodied voice called out of the dark, "Oh, thank heavens! Finally. . ."

Virgil nodded acknowledgement of Alan's unspoken message, and shook his hand, then taking a chance, reached up and clasped Alan's shoulder, shaking him slightly, conveying clearly his relief in seeing Alan in one piece. Alan smiled back briefly, squeezed Virgil's arm quickly, then returned to the business at hand, his eyes serious as he detailed with meticulous care the issues they were facing.

Virgil nodded and looked the situation over. Alan had summarized it pretty accurately, and between the two of them, he thought they could make short work of the specific problems.

In no time, the two of them had the area stabilized and the two survivors up and outside. Then Virgil turned to Alan. "Okay, time for you to go up top."

Alan opened his mouth to protest, but Virgil's raised hand stopped him. "We need all civilians out so we can concentrate on getting your colleague out, and finding the other two." Virgil emphasized the word 'civilian', and at Alan's slow nod of understanding, continued.

"Operative 4 will come down with me, and Operative 1 and our commander will direct from up top. I believe our commander would like a word with you," Virgil smiled as he saw understanding, confusion, and then a touch of apprehension dawn in Alan's face. "I'll let him know you're on the way up," he said as he clamped the younger man's shoulder in support once again.

In all too short of time, Gordon was down the hole, and after a quick, wordless, greeting, Alan was emerging up top, blinking in the bright light.

"Alan, these are the men from International Rescue, the Commander, and Operative 1," Leon introduced as Alan stepped free of the harness, and moved forward to shake their hands.

"This is the young man I was telling you about," Leon explained, as both Jeff and Scott managed an extra squeeze during the handshakes. "Alan reacted faster than I could ever have imagined," he continued. "He had everybody rounded up and a head count taken as soon as we realized what was happening."

"Thanks Dr. Ariee, but we were all on it pretty fast," Alan said with a touch of discomfort at the praise. "Nathan was right there as well."

"Dr. Ariee!" A voice called from the radio tent. "Could you come talk to headquarters? They want to know the status."

"Coming!" The older man called back. Turning back to the IR operatives, he said, "Alan will help you with anything you need. Don't hesitate to ask," he clamped Scott's shoulder as he hurried off.

In the small bubble of fleeting privacy around them, Alan, Scott and Jeff just stared at each other for a moment, slightly at a loss for words. Alan's expression was slightly defiant, but at the same time, it was very clear that he was glad to see his family.

For Jeff, that summed up Alan in a nutshell. Act first, ask forgiveness later. And for his part, just seeing Alan safe and in one piece, he'd forgive anything right now.

Minding the fact that anybody could be listening in at any time, or as they passed by, they were careful to keep the conversation neutral.

"Are you all right, Son?" Jeff asked, concern and worry clear to Alan, and the double meaning very clear to the three of them standing there.

Alan tried ineffectually to brush some of the dirt off his shirt, then gave it up. "Fine, Sir, just feeling like I've been eating dirt," he said with a small smile, finally seeming to grasp that worry, not anger, was the primary emotion directed at him. He decided that he just would never understand his father. Or Scott for that matter. Just when he expected that they'd probably deck him one, they looked like they'd rather hug him instead.

"You look it, too," Scott said frankly, with a light laugh.

"You did a very good job here," Jeff observed with sincerity.

Alan smiled, the surprised pleasure in the compliment clear, but the slight apprehension was still there, and that made Jeff sad. No son should ever worry about their father's joy in seeing them.

"So, how long have you been with Engineers Without Borders?" Jeff asked, after an awkward pause.

"Four months, Sir. It's a great organization."

From the time he walked out the door of the Central Park apartment, Jeff thought. He knew to the day, exactly how long Alan had been gone. How did I not know he'd been looking into this organization. So much for knowing everything about my sons, he throught, a mix of wry amusement at his own conceit, and sadness.

"I've heard of them," Scott commented. "They do great work."

Alan nodded. "I've always been impressed by them. I talked to Dr. Ariee quite a bit when I was at school."

"One of the best recruits I've got," Dr. Ariee commented unexpectedly, reappearing at their side, slinging his arm around Alan's shoulders. "He and Nathan Warner, as well as Beth Turner, were three that I particularly wanted to join. Alan here was the last to succumb. I tried to get Alan here to join the organization when he was in college, but he'd planned to go into his family's business. Somewhere in there, he changed his mind, and when I got his call, I snapped him up. Their loss was my gain. He's been on my team since then. Done a great job, too!"

"Thanks, Sir," Alan said, with gratitude. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to go see how International Rescue is getting along in trying to get Jason out, and if they'd had any luck finding the others." He turned and nodded to Jeff and Scott. "Excuse me," and then was gone, jogging back to the site of the rescue.

"Polite kid," Leon added, as they watched him go.

"Why did he choose Engineers Without Borders? From what you say, it seems like he had to have had a lot of options," Jeff asked curiously, really wanting to know. He could feel Scott's attention focus more clearly at the question as well.

"To be honest, I'm not really sure," Leon answered thoughtfully. "I do know that he had some very lucrative offers, but was pretty set on working for his family. But for as much as an open book as he seems, Alan can be pretty private about some things. I do know that he comes from a background with money," the man continued, but circumspectly. "And when he called me, he made the comment that he wanted to do something to help people. He also said he needed a break pretty badly and to get his head back on straight. School and expectations had been pretty stressful, and he just needed to do something different for a while, before he really gets started on his career." He shrugged. "We'll keep him as long as we can, but frankly, he'll be an asset wherever he goes, and no doubt he'll make his mark. Cream always rises to the top, and I do know that he comes from a family of very high achievers. He's clearly another in that mold."

Both IR operatives nodded agreement, interested more than they could ever let on in this man's viewpoint. "Seems pretty level headed," Scott commented, fishing for more insight, and more hopeful in that statement, than expectant.

"Pretty much," Leon laughed, "but he's still a kid. He can be somewhat impulsive, but not when it counts. He's all business when he needs to be. Working for an organization like this tends to help get our younger recruits' priorities right. Most of the kids we get right out of college mature pretty fast on projects like this. The places we go can be sobering."

Leon laughed suddenly. "Besides, Alan and Nathan are the resident troublemakers. Pranks and things like that. They lighten up what can be a pretty intense work environment. We do fine," he finished.

Gordon chose that moment to break into their conversation on the radio. "We found him!" And with that, they were back into rescue mode, finding the remaining two missing people, and pulling them out. Then they were all busy stabilizing the ground and the remaining pieces of the bridge.

Unfortunately for the Tracy family, International Rescue was too busy to be able to find time to be alone with Alan, a situation that frustrated them to no end. And, in addition, leaving them uncertain about the youngest Tracy's state of mind.


	5. Chapter 5 - OUTCOME (Part 2)

_**Chapter Five – OUTCOME – Part 2**_

Jeff stared through the windscreen of TB1 at the face of his youngest son, as Scott maneuvered the craft off the tricky terrain. Alan was looking back up at them as they took off, his expression a mixture of sadness, longing and frustration. Jeff knew that Alan couldn't see inside the ship, but Alan watched it all the way until they were out of sight. Jeff watched longer, through the close range cameras. He watched as Nathan touched him on the shoulder, breaking this attention from the diminishing dot in the sky.

Jeff felt for Alan. He was in a tough position. It was clear from his reaction, that he was really glad to see his family. Regardless of the recent upheaval, it was obvious that he'd missed them as much as they'd missed him. Jeff was also very impressed with the fact that Alan had called IR. Not only that, but he had been the one to suggest it, in the midst of the emergency.

The maturity level, and presence of mind. that Alan had shown was impressive. He'd put personal feeling aside, and put anger out of the way, to make the best decision for the situation he was in. Essentially calling in his estranged family for help. Not an easy thing for him to do. on a purely personal level. And Alan had to have known that Jeff would come once the contact identity had been disclosed. But Alan had handled the situation very well, and very professionally.

Then there was the fact that Alan had not only called in IR – the one thing he'd wanted to be a part of more than life itself, and had been denied - but to have to work with that organization, only not as a part of it. Family issues aside, that would have been an impossible situation for most people. But again, Alan had done it. And to be able to compartmentalize like that, in an emergency, no less. was something that many far older people had tried to do, yet completely failed to accomplish.

Sighing, Jeff finally switched off the camera and settled back. The silence continued for a long time, as both Scott and Jeff reflected on the rescue and the unbelievable personal ramifications it held for their family.

"I don't even know where to start, what to think," Scott finally muttered.

Jeff echoed the sigh. "I know what you mean."

The beginnings of their conversation were interrupted by John's voice, coming through the communications system, and his face sprang into life on the large plasma screen. "I'm patching Virg and Gordon in, now." As soon as uttered, Virgil and Gordon's serious faces were seen in the now split screen.

"Okay, so spill, guys," John demanded, firmly. "I had to sit up here, wondering what in holy hell was going on, and none of you were talking!" The frustration in his voice was evident. "And you should hear TinTin, Brains and Kyrano right now. So start talking. It was Alan, right? How was he? Is he okay? What's he doing there?"

Gordon started to speak over John, "What did the manager say about . . . ."

However, he was cut off by his father. "Okay, okay," Jeff said tiredly, trying to bring order to what was fast becoming chaos. "First, yes, John, Alan Tracy with Engineers Without Borders, is your little brother, Alan. From what the project leader, Dr. Leon Airee told me, he'd been trying to recruit Alan since before he graduated. It sounds like Alan contacted him the night he left the apartment. It also sounded as though he's been out in the field since the day after . . . he left."

"Wow," Virgil muttered. "Engineers Without Borders. Who'd have thought Alan would want that."

"I should have," John confessed. "Alan has talked about how much he's been impressed with the organization, and that he'd spoken with them during career fairs at school. But since he was so gungho on IR, we never followed up, and he wasn't serious about following up for the same reasons."

"It does make sense," Scott said slowly, as he put pieces together in his head. "Alan's grown up with International Rescue, and the mission of helping save people. We've either been going to rescues, or in the planning stages of building it, since he was small. He always wanted to be part of it, so some kind of humanitarian organization makes sense."

There was a moment of silence, while everybody mulled that thought over.

"I think you're absolutely right, Scott," Jeff commented slowly. "Everything surrounding Alan has been service oriented, not profit oriented. And he's never needed money, so that wouldn't necessarily be a motive when he was looking towards his future."

"How did we miss that," Virgil finally asked, rhetorically, since clearly, nobody had a real answer.

Gordon just shrugged. "Not so surprising, really. He's enough younger, and we were all working, so none of us really had time for 'heart to heart' conversations when he was home. Mostly is was just 'all of us together' time. John may have been the only one to really talk to him, since there isn't much on TB5, and you can always get hold of him."

"True," Jeff agreed thoughtfully.

John studiously ignored Gordon's comment, and instead asked, "Did he say anything about coming home," with more hope than belief.

"Are you kidding? We couldn't even talk directly to him!" Gordon snorted.

"You know," Virgil said thoughtfully, clearly deep into whatever was in his head, and also tuning out Gordon's comments. "What impressed me was how incredibly professional and efficient he was during the rescue. He had everything lined up and working, exactly as we would have. Head counts, everybody in one place, rescue harnesses made up from rope that was handy, the block and tackle, and available personnel in the places that they would be the most help, and anybody else out of the way. All before we got there. We were able to get right to work."

Thoughtful nods all around at this comment.

"And he didn't even argue, when I sent him back up top," Virgil continued. "And he really wanted to stay down with me, hunting for his friends." Suddenly he grinned. "And he REALLY wanted to stay down with me when I told him that our Commander was on site and wanted to talk to him."

Gordon burst out laughing. "I'll bet. But this was probably the safest place to talk to 'the Commander', as Dad couldn't yell at him on scene!"

Over the chuckles, Jeff commented, "I didn't want to yell at him, I just wanted to hug him." He shook his head. "But Virgil, you're right, he did a great job. He's matured a lot more than I'd thought."

"It's hard to let somebody grow up when your brain stops them at about 16, and they're only home at break time. And I don't care who you are, you revert when you get home. Right Gordon?" John asked with a laugh.

"Hey!" Gordon objected, as John continued.

"I think maybe we all need to take a hard look at who Alan is today, not who he was."

"True, but then we were all so sure Gordon had grown up, and I'm now convinced that that has never happened!" Scott laughed.

"No fair ganging up!" Gordon protested.

"Gordon, you tried to paint Thunderbird 1's nose cone pink. Do you think Scott's ever going to get over that? John pointed out with a grin. "Or ever be convinced that you've grown up?"

"Alan helped!" Gordon complained.

"But we knew who blackmailed him into helping," Virgil smiled. "And who's idea it was that started the whole mess!"

"So, Dad," Scott asked quietly, getting them back on topic. "What are you going to do about Alan?"

Suddenly, all attention was riveted on Jeff. He hid a smile. Family was truly everything with this bunch. Jeff looked out of the window for a moment, giving himself time to think the situation over. As he mentally review his youngest son's actions over the last 8 hours, he knew he had to be careful. And he could no longer make any assumptions about what was best for Alan. Alan was an adult now, and demonstrated that he had very strong feelings about his own life, thank you very much. He couldn't make assumptions about any of his sons any more.

Part of him was sad at the thought. His children were all grown up, and his role of being the person who had directed their lives, and helped shape them, was over. Alan had made it abundantly clear that he was in charge of his own life now. Jeff found himself feeling somewhat melancholy at the thought that he was no longer needed to raise his sons, but quickly, pride overcame that. All of his sons were fine men, smart, athletic, and full of common sense. Even Alan, he had to admit. Maybe that was why it was so hard to recognize with Alan. Jeff hadn't been really ready to let go.

Finally he spoke. "Nothing."

The chorus of protests was loud, and overwhelming. Jeff held up a hand, to silence his critics.

"The police, FBI, and Investigators, all made one things very clear. Alan is over 21, and absolutely has the right to leave. He is legally an adult. He's made his choice about where he wants to be."

Dead silence. A very, unhappy, protesting, kind of silence.

"But . . .," Jeff continued. "Dr. Ariee did mention that the team would be stabilizing the area, and then be coming home to plan and regroup, and get input from some Archeologists before going out to finish the job. There is nothing that says I can't meet my son's incoming plane, and offer to take him out for dinner. Especially after a catastrophe like that bridge collapse. I'll be willing to bet most family's will be at that airport, just to make sure those on the project are safe."

The silence was now filled with approval, and slightly grinning faces. Their father's cunning was never to be underestimated when he wanted something. And what he wanted, he usually got.


	6. Chapter 6 - OUTCOME (Part 3)

**_Chapter Six – OUTCOME (Part 3)_**

The battered cargo plane with the Engineers Without Borders logo landed and taxied to the hanger and the waiting crowd of worried families. When the plane opened and the weary passengers disembarked, families came together in relief and gratitude that their loved ones were alive.

Jeff Tracy, standing back, craned his neck to see if he could spot Alan. He was surprised not to be able to find him. It wasn't until the unloading began, that he saw his son in the back of the cargo portion of the utilitarian jet, helping to unload onto the carts that had come out of the EWB hanger. Even from the distance, he could see the exhaustion haunting the young man's face. Alan hadn't even looked in his direction. Clearly he didn't expect to see anybody meeting the plane. And why would he? He hadn't spoken to his family since the rescue, three days ago.

As the crowds emptied out, leaving only those helping the crew to unload, Nathan looked up and whistled softly. Alan looked at him with tired curiosity. "What?"

"Look who's over there!" Nathan nodded towards the parked town car. "It's Jefferson Tracy, the astronaut. I wonder what he's doing here. Huh. I wonder if I could get his autograph, if he's still here when were done," Nathan muttered.

Alan looked at him blankly for a second, then looked in the direction he'd indicated. It was indeed his father. He was leaning casually against the large town car, hands in the pockets of his leather bomber jacket, waiting patiently. Alan stared for a second, then turned back to Nathan.

"Hang on a sec," he said, hopping down off the cargo bay ramp. "I'll be right back, I need to talk to my dad." He began to trot towards the car.

All work at the plane ceased suddenly at that statement. Nathan, Beth, Gwen and Brody all looked at each other, stunned. Nathan recovered the quickest. "Wait," he called after Alan. "You mean your 'that' Alan Tracy?!"

Alan just waved a hand vaguely back towards his friends, and trotted towards the car and his father.

Jeff watched the interplay, bemused. He could hear the ' . . . . you're _that_ Alan Tracy?" comment clearly, and saw Alan essentially blow it off. Now that _was_ interesting. All of his sons had been raised to be wary of publicity, but with Alan especially, it had been a fact of his life from the beginning. The others could remember a time when Jeff wasn't famous, or wealthy, but not Alan.

The family had done their best to shelter Alan from the kind of attention fame brought, and had succeeded very well. But at Alan's age, and on his own without the umbrella of family protection for essentially the first time, and trying to get doors to open for him, it would have made sense that he would have used his name to his advantage. But very clearly, he hadn't. Dr. Airee had known, that was obvious, but based on the conversations at the rescue, neither he, nor Alan apparently, had made that fact of hims famous father widely known.

Interesting. One more piece of Alan's character that he hadn't been aware of. John was correct. They all had really 'stopped' Alan's maturity in their minds at age sixteen. Jeff clearly hadn't been the only one who wasn't ready to let Alan grow up, and end that part of their lives.

"Dad? Is everything all right?" Alan came to a stop in front of him, a concerned expression on his face.

Jeff realized that Alan didn't realize that his father was just here to see him, not for any other reason. Why hadn't any of them made more of an effort to just go visit Alan, not to be the bearer of news, good or bad? But just to visit and enjoy his company. Alan's past words did bear a trace of bitter fruit, Jeff was sorry to realize. But the future could be changed, and memories of the past be made to be just memories, with no more power.

"Fine, fine," Jeff assured Alan hastily, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and basically reassure myself that you were still in one piece." Shaking his head, Jeff stepped up and hugged his son tightly.

After a moments' surprised hesitation, Alan was hugging his father just as tightly, Jeff was glad to realize. Jeff sighed and whispered into his son's ear, "I"ve missed you so much, Alan, and I. Am. So. _Proud_. Of you!" And with a last squeeze, he reluctantly released him.

Alan had an almost poleaxed expression on his face, and once again, Jeff felt the stir of sorrow. He really hadn't done right by Alan in the past few years. He should have made sure his son knew just how proud of him he always was, even will he had tried to curb the erratic behavior than had plagued Alan's teenaged years. But parenting wasn't an exact science, even though most children liked to think so.

"Really?" Alan finally whispered, almost afraid to ask, eyes huge.

"Really." This wasn't the place to talk, and they both knew it. The airport was public, and any Tracy in any place could have a microphone on them that they didn't know about, and circumspection was always the word of the day. But still, Jeff smiled easily at his son. "And I'd like to take you to dinner. I bet you haven't had a decent meal in four months!"

Alan laughed. A real laugh, free of constraint. "You're right. Food in the field isn't the best." He then turned serious, as he gazed at his father. "And we need to talk."

Another surprise. Alan initiating a discussion. "Yes, we do. We can go to the apartment, or the Tower. But if you aren't comfortable with either, I'll get us a private dining room at the Plaza."

To Jeff's brief disappointment, Alan opted for the Plaza. Then he consoled himself to take one step at a time. His own insistence on doing things his way was part of what had gotten them into this situation in the first place.

Alan asked if Jeff could wait until he was finished unloading, and Jeff agreed immediately.

Alan nodded, and started to turn away, then quickly wheeled back, and surprised his father by giving him another brief hug. As he stepped back, he added causally, "And by the way, Nathan wants your autograph. You know, the great Jeff Tracy."

Jeff laughed. "Let's do one better than that. I'll understand if you don't want to stay at the apartment, but," and he looked Alan in the eye to make sure he knew this wasn't a casual comment, "I want you to know that your room is always open to you there." At Alan's nod of understanding, Jeff continued. "But please, let me host you and your friends at the apartment tomorrow night. I'll get a big, catered dinner, and we can all catch up. I'd like to get to know them. They seem like a great group."

Alan grinned. "They are, and I know they'd like that. You know, free food and all."

Jeff laughed. "Right. Okay, I'll be right here when you're ready to go."

Alan grinned back and then headed back to the plane.

Watching the interested questions that he couldn't hear, and the sidelong glances his way, Jeff hid a smile. Alan may have really grown up, but he and his friends were all still young, experiencing the world on their own for the first time, and very enthusiastic. It would be fun to have a houseful of young adults again. He'd been shut away on the island way too long.

TB TB TB TB TB

Serious conversation was put off until both Alan and Jeff were settled in the private dining room at the Plaza, and had ordered their meals. Talk had been light, mostly catching up on what all the various family members had been up too. But once the waiter had left, both men fell silent, and just gazed at each other seriously.

"I'm sorry, Dad, for all the worry I caused you and the guys," Alan said finally, again surprising Jeff with his willingness to begin what was sure to be a difficult conversation for them both. "I . . . just, well, had to get away for a while. I know it was childish to just leave like that." Alan looked down at his glass, then looked up again with a trace of the defiance that was so familiar to Jeff. "But honestly, I still don't know what else I could have done. If I came back at that point, we'd just fight more. I had to leave, get away," Alan struggled to put his feelings into words, and finally just shrugged.

Jeff waited patiently until Alan finished, really listening and hearing the desperation in his son's voice. That desperation made him shut his eyes in hurt for a brief moment, as he heard the pain in his son's voice.

"I'm so sorry, Alan," Jeff began softly, after a pause to make sure Alan was done speaking, "for not really listening to you. I've done a lot of thinking in the last several months, and have really realized that I haven't listened to you in quite some time."

Alan gave an uncomfortable shrug, and said quietly, "You've been busy. Work and International Rescue . . ."

Jeff stopped him before he could continue. "Excuses. And they ultimately don't matter. You are my son. Your needs should have taken priority over anything else."

The almost blank expression on Alan's face at that statement was yet another blow to Jeff's heart. Alan agreed, obviously. And just as clearly, he'd thought this for a very long time, and his ability to hide his emotions was very, very well practiced. Jeff wondered why he hadn't ever seen that expression for what it was. One more nail in his own coffin. It was time to stop counting.

"I think I've been too uninvolved in your life, and I'd like to change that. I'd also like to explain why, if I may." Jeff took Alan's nod as permission to continue.

"The gap in ages between you and your brothers mean that you were born at a very different place in our family's experiences. Your brother's all know what it meant to have a normal life. To play in a regular neighborhood, to go to public schools, to live a middle class life. By the time you were born, our lives were much, much different. Wealth, fame, and publicity had, by necessity, changed the way we were living. I was pulled in so many different directions. Then, after your mother's death, well, things changed even more. So, not only age, but circumstances, were different for you, as opposed to your brothers."

Jeff was lost in thought for a moment, thinking back to that turbulent time. Things had been so chaotic. And Alan, a newborn, was the only thing that was normal to him. He knew how to handle a baby. Feeding, changing, crawling, walking, all actual, all real, all tangible things he had experience with. Sighing, he continued to speak.

"You were something normal, and something I was familiar with, in a time of big changes. Raising a son. But I raised you, with significant help from your brothers, especially Scott," Jeff and Alan shared a grin, "because I was at work so often. But I neglected to see that circumstances had changed as well. I was a suddenly a single parent for a change, I wasn't home as much, our early experiences with publicity weren't all that great, and it wasn't until we moved to the island that I felt normal again. But, as you grew, your temper and impulsiveness grew as well."

As Jeff was speaking, he was impressed all over again at Alan's patience with his narrative. Even 6 months ago, Alan would have been jumping in to protest his last statement. But Alan just sat quietly, listening carefully and attentively. So much had changed, yet again, Jeff reflected.

"I dealt with your temper in the same way I'd dealt with your brothers in their teenaged years, not taking into consideration that the reasons for your attitudes may be very different from the others. And that your needs might also be very different. I'd seen each of your brothers as an individual, and reacted accordingly. But somehow, with you, I didn't. And that explained why you were so much more volatile than your brother's had ever been, and why I came down on you so much harder. If I'd looked at the circumstances more carefully, I'd like to think I'd have dealt with you differently."

Jeff thought a moment, then continued. "I'm now realizing that I didn't take any of this into consideration, not because I didn't want to, or didn't care, but that raising a child was one thing that was consistent and familiar to me. And I needed that familiarity right then. Especially then, with everything changing." Jeff looked Alan in the eye. "This is not an excuse, but something I've just been realizing since you've been gone.

Alan nodded slowly, clearly absorbing this.

"Then there was International Rescue." Jeff sighed. "That really changed everything again. It was my dream, after your mother died. What could I do with the blessings bestowed on me – money, fame, and all that entailed. We had so much. And there was such a need. And your brothers all wanted to be part of it. And they were ready to be. They were of an age to understand, and truly know what that choice to be involved meant. You weren't. And it was important that you understood that there were other choices. All you'd know was IR. You didn't know what life was like without it."

Jeff looked very seriously at his son. "And you were so impulsive, and reckless. The thought of you on a rescue was incredibly frightening."

Alan's eyes flashed, and Jeff was afraid that they were heading back to the same type of interaction that had so epitomized their relationship for the last half of Alan's life. He waited for a second to see what would happen, and saw Alan visibly take a deep breath and get hold of himself. Then Alan just waited for his father to continue, without saying a word. Grateful beyond measure at this evidence of his son's growing maturity, he continued.

"You don't know this, but when Gordon joined, we had a lot of problems. And he'd grown up being in on the planning of International Rescue. He was a lot like you are now. Enthusiastic, bright, ready to take on the world. He'd also been to the Olympics, and through that whole training process, had seen a lot more of life than you have. Even so, he was almost killed in at least two separate incidents because he went off on his own instead of listening to his mobile commander – Scott. He'd reacted like a brother, rather than an operative. It was sobering, and he was grounded for a while until we could work through it."

Alan looked stunned. "I didn't know. I mean, I didn't even guess . . ."

Jeff laughed slightly. "Of course not. We didn't want you too. The whole situation would have scared you to death. It was bad enough that we were all risking our lives. But for Gordon to have almost killed himself, not once, but twice, just because he was mad at his brother, and felt himself invincible, was almost unthinkable. And to saddle you with the ramifications of that when you were barely 14, and away at boarding school? No. You needed more stability that than, and besides, you were the one thing that was normal in all of our lives, especially at that time."

Jeff shuddered at the remembered time. "It was pretty bad. There was practically war around here, while we worked things out. Why do you think we run IR like a branch of the military? We are family, but in the field, it's all about command structure. And in reality, the thought of going through that with you, was well, ten times worse. You were far more impulsive than Gordon had ever been!"

Alan nodded slowly, clearly trying to digest this version that was so different from what he himself remembered. The cheerful video calls from his brothers, during that time, and the stories from the rescues. He'd clearly gotten a sanitized version. Then suddenly, he remembered.

"Gordon's broken wrist," he said suddenly. "I wondered why something that was such a simple break took him out of the field for so long."

Jeff nodded. "A convenient excuse. It was easier than trying to explain what was really happening, and we didn't want you to have to take sides, or even have your family support structure undermined."

"Then there was one other reason to keep you out of IR. Something that I've only just recently realized," Jeff said, taking a deep breath. Once Alan's attention was back on him, and out of his memories of the past, he continued. "I didn't want you to grow up," Jeff said simply.

At Alan's surprise, he smiled. "If you grew up, then that part of my life was over. If you were making decisions on your own, I was done raising my sons."

The shocked look on Alan's face made him smile. "And I'll guarantee you that Scott feels exactly the same. Your other brothers as well, to some extent, although Scott had as much a hand in raising you as I did. None of us are ready to feel quite that old. And I'm pretty we're all still working our way through that one."

Alan just looked stunned. Jeff could see that although being treated like an adult, and this kind of frank conversation, was what he'd wanted, Alan was now getting more than he'd bargained for.

Jeff hid a smile, and calmly ate his dinner. He had lots of burning questions for his son, but they had all evening, and if he'd learned nothing else through his many business dealings, he'd learned to be patient. And one of those traits was to make the other person speak first. He'd never thought to use those particular techniques in a discussion with his son, but with stakes as high as those in this specific meeting, he'd use anything that gave him an advantage. He had no qualms about playing dirty here. He was in it to win. He wanted his son back. Oh, he had no doubts that the terms would be different, and he had no problems with that. But he wasn't going to settle for estrangement again, oh no. Not that, ever again. He'd blown things in a very big way four months ago, and he wasn't one to make the same mistake twice.

Silence reigned for a while, as both men worked on their meals. Alan was clearly thinking hard. When he did finally speak, it was to ask a question that Jeff really had never seen coming.

"I think I understand now why you didn't want me to join IR. And it even makes a kind of sense. I'm sure it will even make more sense the more I think about it. But what I don't understand is why you wanted to hide me away at Tracy Enterprises in a figure-head type of position instead."

The pain in Alan's voice was unmistakable, even through his, not immaterial, ability to hide what he was really thinking. And the quiet voice in which he spoke only magnified his pain to a point where it all but shouted to Jeff of his son's desperate hurt. Only then, for the very first time, did Jeff see the total of Alan's insecurities and his fear of disappointing his father and family, and of not being 'good enough', that had taken root in those volatile teenaged years.

The ripple of shock that went through Jefferson Tracy at this realization, absolutely rocked him to his core, and completely rearranged his view of the past, much as he knew his own words just now had rocked Alan.

"Alan . . . 'Figure head position'? What on earth . . .? How could you even think that?" Jeff was actually sputtering in shock, as he dropped his fork and sat back. "I would never . . ."

He took a deep breath to calm himself, then spoke carefully. "I had an engineering position for you in the Creative Engineering Group. The same one Brains had been part of. You'd be so perfect in that team. You're abilities to think outside of the box, and make the type of intuitive connections that you do, would be invaluable to them." Jeff found himself at a loss for words.

Alan himself was pale, sitting frozen, watching his father's uncharacteristically flummoxed reaction. That Jeff had been completely taken surprised by his words was clear. And the Creative Engineering Group? Alan was stunned. That was the most prestigious team in Tracy Enterprises. Most of the big innovations came out of that team. The positions there were highly coveted. But that brought up another question in his mind. And he really needed to clear it up. The answer would make all the difference to him, and to his future.

"Stan and Marcus's team? Because my last name is Tracy? Is that why I'd be assigned there?"

Jeff gaped for a moment, then got hold of himself. He leaned forward and spoke carefully and firmly. "No, Alan. I told you before that nothing is given in this family. Everything is fully earned. You weren't ready for IR. But even though you are my son, if you weren't suited for that group, you wouldn't be assigned there. And if you truly think I'm going to throw away gifts like yours, you don't know me very well! No, I want you there because that is the best place for you. And the best possible preparation for the time when you do join International Rescue."

Jeff let that hang there for a moment, in the dead, still silence. "If you want to still join International Rescue, that is. After your performance on the rescue in Cambodia? If you want to join, you're in. And that's unanimous, by the way. You impressed your brothers tremendously." And then, because Jeff was still reeling at the revelations of Alan's insecurities, and the knowledge that he needed to do a significantly better job at letting his son know how much he was appreciated, he added, "And me as well."

His new resolution for the future was to let Alan, and all of his sons, know exactly how much he admired, loved and appreciated them. Verbally, and as clearly as he knew how. He wasn't ever going to let something like this kind of misunderstanding happen ever again.

Alan nodded slowly. "I signed an 18 month commitment to Engineers Without Borders."

As always, and had been his want for his entire life, Alan's response was entirely unexpected. Jeff mentally snorted. Well, that shouldn't have been any great surprise. Alan had never been as simple as his four older boys, regardless of circumstances, so why should he be now? So, instead of just reacting, Jeff considered his son thoughtfully.

"I'm sure we can break that contract, if that's what you want," Jeff said slowly. Then, as part of his new resolve, he continued. "What do you want to do, Alan? I don't think I've ever asked you that question before. But as you said to me in our last 'meeting', you have options."

Alan smiled slightly, glad to be able to be amused at that memory. It wasn't that long ago, the hurt was still close, but the revelations his father had made this evening were eye opening, and were going to take some time to work through. Breathing deeply, he took his time before he answered, but when he did, he was decisive.

"I want to finish my contract with EWB. I made a commitment, and I'm going to keep it. I also still need the break. I like the group, I like their mission, and I need the time to think."

Jeff nodded. "Fair enough. Have you thought about after that?"

Again, to Jeff's surprise, Alan flushed slightly. "Yes, Sir, I have. I've been thinking about it for a while, and I know what I want to do. I've already started planning."

Jeff hid his disappointment. He was really hoping that Alan would jump to join IR. But again, as always, Alan marched to his own drum, and had actually had a chance to figure out what that was. He just waited.

"I want to go to through NASA's astronaut training program."

Jeff choked on the water he'd just sipped.

Alan grinned, then laughed out loud. "Seriously. I'd already decided to do that when my contract ended. I'd always loved talking with John about the stars, and space flight. I think it would even be better than car racing! I've read John's text books cover to cover several times, and talked to him about the mechanics of space flight. Not sure why it had never occurred to me before. Of course, I was looking at going into the International Space Station program as one of their astronauts when I'd finished."

Jeff managed to speak. "And now?"

"As an IR Operative, and trading rotations with John. If that's offered, of course," Alan added quickly.

Shaking his head in amazement, Jeff just nodded. "Alan, I think that is a wonderful idea. I can't think of anything better suited for you. And I'd love to have you in International Rescue flying Thunderbird 3. But I think it may give Scott gray hairs." He smiled at his grinning son. "Do you want help getting into the program? I could make some calls," He offered carefully.

Alan shook his head definitively. "No. I want to do this on my own."

Jeff nodded. "However, if any of my old friends in the program call me off the record, I'll tell you right now what I will tell them. I support this idea wholeheartedly, and that they won't get a better candidate." Then he added seriously, "And Alan, if you change your mind about any of this, know that whatever you choose to do, I'll support you completely. All I want is for you to be happy and successful in whatever you choose to do. Understood?"

"Understood," Alan said seriously. And smiled.

Jeff knew that they'd have more discussions, and that there would undoubtedly be more misunderstandings, but at least they had the underpinnings of solid communications for the first time. Alan had been his most difficult son to raise by far, and for the first time, Jeff was fully appreciating why. And that much of it had been his own lack of patience and understanding that had created the problems. But, as always, there were two sides to each story, and now they were both finally moving towards middle ground.

"Just do me one favor," Jeff sighed. At Alan's quizzical look, he continued. "Call your brothers. They're driving me crazy."

Alan laughed out loud. "Gladly."

"Where are you staying?" Jeff asked, as casually as he could. "The apartment's always available, you know." He would dearly love for Alan to stay at the apartment. No doubt it was his controlling personality, but It would ease his mind about his son's safety. However, clearly Alan was needed time to find himself and who he was. He seemed to have a great group of people around him, and hard as it was, Jeff really needed to let go. He may have to twist Scott's arm to get him to agree, but there it was.

"Thanks, but I'm sharing an apartment with Nathan and Jason. It's small, but it's functional, and it's a secured building in a decent part of town," Alan added matter-of-factly. "I'll text you the address and my phone number."

Jeff realized that he'd done at least something right in his raising of Alan. Alan understood the needs and restrictions of being a Tracy better than any of the rest of them. Security was a normal consideration for him, as it had been for him all of his life, so it was automatic. He felt himself relax somewhat. Alan really was grown up.

So Jeff just nodded. Then grinned. "One other thing. Why didn't you ever go out for baseball in high school or college? You've got one hell of a pitching arm."

At Alan's peal of laughter, Jeff realized that he just might get the hang of this father thing yet. Better late than never.

~_finis~_


End file.
